To whom it may concern;

I'm writing more on www.bloggingbackstage.com now, though with all my theatre stuff, it's getting more and more difficult to keep it updated...

I have a friend who is a special kind of insane. One who thinks like no one I have ever met, whose logic can either solidify or shatter their own arguments, and greatest shortcoming is their very own mind. He is the kind of genius we reserve for films and fiction, yet he is living in this very world. I sometimes wonder, though, if that is the kind of man the world needs.

He was once a much closer friend than he is now. To say that he is even a friend now could be to push the boundaries of exaggeration. The name sits idly by in contact lists and friend feeds, but behind the mask of relative silence and slow progression, I know there is a bubbling mass of thought that I could only hope to cultivate.

I need not tell you his name, though perhaps by the end of this description you will know who it is that I am talking about. For those of you who think it could be myself I speak of, fear not, for I am not that vain and self centred to write about myself in such a fashion. No, he is but merely a satellite about my life, but one which still carries significant information.

Unaware, he may be, of my writing of him at this very minute, but knowing me as he full well does, I would expect that he has picked up the subtleties of this text and realized full well that it is him that I speak of. You see, I keep an extensive collection of information at my fingertips at all time. Emails numbering in the thousands, text messages in a steady stream, and hundreds of megabytes of data stream through the air to my laptop. I also have subscriptions to the casual writings of various people I have encountered, and keep track of each one through the system of RSS. Now I'm sure I have bored most of you to tears with that, so let's get back to the main argument.

This man, this genius, and friend, may have all but forgotten I exist.

He will also one day, I believe, change the world.


You see, radical thinking is paramount in this economy, yet no one seems to take any part in it! That is why I often read, with much trepidation, each and every published word from this man. To think, that he could, on a whim, end a relationship without even knowing the true reason behind it?

I suppose I cannot fully comment on the situation, seeing as I have not been briefed on the details, but I suggest that it was simply a complete and utter faith in his own self that it came from. To sense a feeling within oneself, and to fully and completely trust it, and to act on it, is something extremely exciting, to me at least.

I must,  however, leave this analysis for another time. To my friend, a drink or two, perhaps?

In retrospect, there are a lot of things that could have been done a whole lot better. But oh well, too late for that now, guess I've got to clean up the mess and try all over. Somehow I always end up the villain in my mind.

So I've finally found someone who can actually put into words (and video) the complete story of my life. It's sad, though a little comforting, to know that there are at least others out there in my shoes. But still, what the hell? Could everyone in the world (or at least those who read this) take a break from facebooking and just watch this three part thing? Might help you understand what a lot of guys go through.

Part one:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZrnK-qPARYI

Imagine, if you will, that I am confused. A horribly impossible thought for you I'm sure.

I haven't been swimming in months. Actually, I think that, other than hot tubbing (which I don't count as swimming any more than I do a shower) the last time I was swimming was on the summer sailing trip. That's not that important really. What I'm getting at is that it feels a little like I'm swimming through life right now, and not in the happy perfect world sort of way.

It all started where many things in life start. The end. The completion of a year of my life with a girl I loved very much, and had enjoyed a great deal of time with, both virtually and physically. Now this post is not a complaint about this either, there's enough of that out there. Even on this blog.

What I'm very laboriously getting at is that I've lost my direction following that incident. Yes, I'm still chasing the theatre dream, and that's not going anywhere, but there is more to life than just school and future careers. I'm really concerned about my relationships with others right now, there's been too much sudden change, and I don't think all is well.

The crappy part about being in school is that no one else is. That's a lie I suppose, but it's like, the people who aren't there are the ones I think about and miss the most. I've drifted from two of the three closest people in my life, and I don't know how I can fix that. I'm doing my best to work step by step to recover from that, but I don't know where to start. I try to make the time, I really do. Everyone knows how insane my schedule is, I'm honest to goodness booking in December right now, it's that nuts. However, the inner nucleus of my orbital friend sphere should know that they get top booking in that calendar; nearly any appointment can be moved...

Tech has been interesting. I'm back in the "like-them-but-not-sure-what-they're-thinking" mode yet again, and it's so exhausting! Figures I'd be the organized one, and assign numbers derived from how long I've liked them for... Number one, well, I'm just waiting on a status report. Number two, you're looking to be the best bet so far, but you're switching diversities back and forth worse than the Sennheiser during Witness! (Techie joke, translated means: giving different impressions back and forth all the time). If only I had the balls to just ask you and get this whole thing just sorted out. Number three, well, I think you're just being friendly. Besides, you already have a boyfriend.

And then number zero (? not liking that notation), I wish that had gone a whole lot better, now I just feel awkward for saying anything. Yeaaaahhhh.... (wtf?)

Wow, anger Graham, let's tone it down

I wish there was some way I could tell people the truth about who I am, and yet the arguments for and against are nowhere near finished battling it out. More discussion on this in certain other forums later. Not that you know what that means (except you, the exception to the rule).

I suppose I could continue blogging on the bb.com site, but I just seriously don't feel like it anymore. Night all

Just like that, a new blog is born!

I have a pretty good feeling that this blog will pretty much cease to exist following this post, but we'll see where I end up. I'm also considering purchasing a domain name, but again, things come with time. But enough about that, and on to the blog!

http://bloggingbackstage.blogspot.com

More upgrades!

It's interesting to see that, even after months of not a thing being written on this blog, people still visit in the off chance that there may be something new. So, I guess with all the free time I have now (yeah right) I might as well do some writing.

Question is, what about? There are billions of blogs; what's going to set mine apart? Sure, complaining about my love life can be entertaining to read, but really, there's enough of that. I could start a food blog, but I have a feeling at least one reader would give me a death glare. So why not just do with what I do best? Wait, now I'm trying to figure out what that is...

I do a lot of tech. My life is about to become very much all about tech. So, I think it's time I start a new blog. Something...gaffy. I'll repost when I know what that looks like...

Why do I have such a bad feeling about this? Am I just not understanding some invisible signs around me?

Now that I'm really thinking about it, maybe something really is wrong. I really don't want to jump to any conclusions on anything, but maybe I should be trusting my gut on this one. Has it really, truly come to this? I mean, c'mon, less than 48 hours away from 365 days, and this is where we are? I mean, sure I'm no expert in these things, but surely this isn't what is supposed to be happening right?

If I'm totally off base with this, please, I'm begging you, yank me out of my misery, set me back on track. I know that sometimes my head plays games with me, so if it's a lie please let me know.

But the more I think about it, the more real it becomes. I would much rather have a broken heart than a broken relationship, but it seems that is what it's come to. I'm sure many of the thoughts in my head are simply misunderstandings and over-exaggerations, but I can't help but see application to them. Maybe it really is over. TELL ME, PLEASE.

I have no idea what's going on. I've very clearly laid out my emotions on the table, I've thrown away every last shard of dignity in the hope that it would complete things, but perhaps it has come too late, or worse, has done more harm than good.

I told you I love you, and they are the truest words I have ever said. Yet if you decide that you cannot love me, then have at the very least the kindness to inform me of it.

I really hope I'm wrong.

Bleagh

I just got home from a crazy hilarious movie, "The Hangover", and now
I feel like total shit. I am completely phych-drunk. It seems to
happen a lot when people around me are drunk and enjoying themselves.
Problem is, it's now almost 1 in the morning, I said I'd be at the
school by 9, and I am so totally wired it's insane. I had an awesome
afternoon, hanging out with my best friend and just doing whatever.
Now I'm wishing I could turn it off and go to sleep. Stupid sour
cherry blaster candies, you make me sick...

In other news, I really can't think of a lot else to say, but I'm
going to keep writing until I can't anymore. Like right about now,
okay? C'mon Graham, you can do this, fall asleep now!

You know how much I'd love to talk to someone..anyone right now? I
just...bleagh. No stupid ipod, I'm not saying bleach, I'm saying
bleagh, it's an expression of how I'm feeling. And I'm totally pissed
off that I forgot my sunglasses at the theatre. Like, c'mon, how
stupid is that?

Grr. I feel so crappy right now I want to puke. What is going on with
me? I need to make my brain shut up some days. Like, seriously, where
do some of my ideas come from?

Not going to England. Kind of glad about that actually, I gives me a
lot more freedom this summer. Well, 2 weeks anyways. And hopefully,
that freedom might yield a visit! Gah, I'm so excited...

Still wide awake, time is 1:10AM. I wonder if anyone is awake right
this moment. And of course I'm too scared to text anyone in case I
wake them up, because seriously, other than feeling like crap, there's
nothing wrong. My heartbeat is through the roof, my chest aches, and
my head is throbbing, plus the disgusting pit of gross-ness that is my
stomach churning away in my gut. I'm just a perfectly happy camper,
aren't I?

So I just updated my status, maybe, hopefully there's someone out
there who will see it and will text me. Melissa, why aren't you
reading my mind???

I seriously don't know why I go on like this all the time. But hey,
you're entertained aren't you? Considering it's my first post in...ages?

Meh, I've had enough of this. There might be more another time or in
another place, but don't worry if that maketh no sense, you will find
out all you need to know in due course.

Graham Kingsley
Sir Winston Churchill High School
(403) 809-9544
CanadianScouter@gmail.com

And since you're reading this, now would be an acceptable time to text me so I can attempt to explain that better... ;)

So I've been wary of saying anything at all about this because I know that it could be mis-construed so easily, or taken the wrong way, or cause a change, and I don't want any of that. But sometimes I think the best way I'm going to figure this out is to just write a huge long rant and see what happens. So let's see what happens.

Today marks the 60 day anniversary of not seeing each other. Yay me!

That's right folks, I'm in a relationship, and I haven't seen her in 60 whole days! Or 1440 Hours! Or 5 184 000 seconds!

To be perfectly honest, it's brutal. But totally not in the way you'd expect. But this is where we enter the Bermuda Triangle of me-trying-not-to-fuck-everything-up-by-saying-the-wrong-thing-on-my-blog.

The hardest part for me is seeing other couples. That's pretty much it.

I love that some of my closest friends have found someone, and I smile every time I see how happy they are. I feel like some sort of proud parent who is watching their kid grow up, and they've finally found something that makes them truly happy.

For the most part, I can contain it and life moves on as normal. Everything kept in check.

But now things have gone off the deep end a bit, and I'm losing my grip.

Grad was probably when it started. The combination of grad dates, hookups and make outs has driven me ever closer to that line of totally gone. I love seeing two really nice people dressed up and looking their best, walking around enjoying themselves and each other, and having a great time. Grad is a very significant time of our lives, and we're all going to remember it for the rest of our lives. The thing is, I'm a little miffed that I can't spend the 3rd most important day of my life with the person that I care about the most! (For the record, getting married and the grand opening of my theatre are tied for first place). I would have enjoyed the night that much more if I could have just cuddled by that fire pit with her rather than being the one who pours more shots and keeps the fire going.

And with it being spring and all, those other relationships just seem to come out of the woodwork like nobody's business. Not that I mind, heck, I'm probably the biggest closet romantic around. But for some reason seeing a couple making out on a bench, or kissing before going to class, or holding hands as they slowly walk down the sidewalk is just...difficult. I do my very best to just ignore it (as much as is acceptable), because I know that if I were in their position, I wouldn't want to have to stop. Frankly, I think it would bother me more if people stopped doing those things out of respect or compassion or whatever you want to call it, for me, than if they continued doing it. That probably makes no sense.

I just miss her, and seeing other people enjoying what I have but can't enjoy is murder some days. Like today.

I've pretty much planned out everything I want to say and do, but now I have to wait. If I can get my parents to let us drive, it'll be another 43 days. Can you imagine over 100 days without seeing the one you love? At least it's shorter than last time, a whole 230 days...

I don't know what else there is to say. Simply put, I'm tired, and that's making me angry at people being able to hold hands with their boyfriend/girlfriend. But I would also be just as mad, if not more so, if people stopped. Therefore the whole argument is moot and I just made you lose brain cells for no reason whatsoever. So that was stupid.

I'm Yours

I may not have the softest touch
I may not say the words as such
And though I may not look like much
I'm yours

And though my edges may be rough
And never feel I'm quite enough
It may not seem like very much
But I'm yours

Home

I've been thinking back to that trip a lot lately, remembering little moments that, at the time, just pass you by.

Walking around the island, noticing that our steps are always in sync, that our pace is identical.

The moment of "this is right"

Seeing her for the first time in months, walking into the airport, shaking all the way down the escalator, so unsure of what's behind the frosted doors.

The first hug, the last hug.

I would love to even just be able to play back those few days, and relive every moment. To sleep in a room a few thousand millimeters away instead of a few thousand kilometers. To just feel every moment again and again.

This is home
Now I'm finally
Where I belong
Where I belong
Yeah, this is home
I've been searching
For a place of my own
Now I've found it
Maybe this is home
Yeah, this is home
(This Is Home, Switchfoot)

I so desperately want this to work, and I want to be happy with every moment of it.

So I recently updated a part of my information box on Facebook. When you think about it, how significant can it be? It's only Facebook, right?

Well, maybe, but I choose to believe otherwise.

♥ Graham is in a relationship with Jenny Fo · Comment · Like

To me, that's pretty much the only way that I can really publicly say that it's there. Obviously I don't feel the need to make every single person in the world know what's going on in my life, but I do want there to be some understanding, some semblance of order in my life.

What I'm trying to get at is this. Yes it's a long distance relationship. Yes it's hard. Yes she's my girlfriend. Yes I miss her more than anything.

But because we can't be side by side every moment of every day, what is there anchoring me to reality? How can I make it clear to people that I'm not just making this up, that it exists?

For me, I like having things in writing. I like it when it's stated totally clear, when there's no doubts anywhere, and when there's something to read and look at. By making that one change on Facebook, it's a tiny way for me to say, "yeah, this is real, that's the truth."

When I can look and see that, it just gives me an ever so brief moment of heart pounding joy

230

It's been 230 days since I last heard your voice. Today, just before I picked up the phone, I tried to remember what it sounded like, and I honestly couldn't remember. I was so concerned that I wouldn't recognize it when I heard it.

I'm so phobic of talking on the phone for some reason, and it took so long to finally dial that number. Sorry, I was shaking a little, and I just wanted to pass the phone along to my parents as quick as possible. Now I wish I had stayed and talked...

But there were a few seconds where I could hear your voice again, and it made me so happy. I miss you so much :)

My Dream

You know, for the past few days, there's something I've thought about a lot (besides spring break!), and that is my idea of owning a theatre. I honestly can't shake the idea of having a place that I own, where I can do exactly what I want on my own terms.

There are people who want to be doctors, for example. They work so hard in school to have the training and certification to be able to call themselves doctors, and then they go out into the world, in an attempt to turn their passion into a career. Many of these doctors will go to work in a hospital or a clinic, or maybe go to another country and provide medical assistance there. There are also those who decide instead to start up their own practice, and to have an office with their name on the front door that they own themselves.

That's what I want. I want to pick a city or town, buy a plot of land, and literally start from scratch. I want to build a gigantic theatre that every touring production will want to visit, one with the greatest hand-picked crews, one with only the very best equipment, a theatre with a residence built right on the side where crew and performers can stay in comfort.

It would be a theatre where you never know what to expect. The entrance is at the top of a set of stairs, lit by classical streetlamps with big warm white christmas lights strung between them. You would arrive at the front entrance and be invited in by large polished brass doors. Immediately when you enter, there is a sense of warmth and belonging, and you are transported to a world where anything is possible.

Your ticket is carefully torn by a smiling usher, as you will want to keep the stub as a memento for years to come. In the lobby, people are generally milling about, though in no rush to get anywhere. Portraits and biographies of the cast and crew are hung on the walls, and guests are entertained by the humorous tidbits they find in each one, and the biographies are changed nearly every show so that even regular patrons have something new to look at. Plush chairs and couches are scattered throughout the lobby, and a few patrons decide to sit in them for a few minutes before the show begins.

The walls are various warm earth tones, but the floor and ceiling are a different matter. The floor is a beautiful ebony hardwood that has been meticulously polished, reflecting back the wide-eyed face of the young child who is entranced by his surroundings. The ceiling shimmers like millions of stars, and the ethereal swoop of the aurora borealis lightly dances among the stars. A delicate chandeliere hangs in the center of the lobby, casting a warm glow on the expectant audience.

At the appointed hour, a set of ushers begin their choreographed house opening procedure. 5 sets of magnificent oak doors are pulled open, and the lights inside the the theatre fade on, beckoning the audience to enter. More ushers, ready to help guests to their seats, stand smiling at their posts all the way down the hall. Feeling the pull of the theatre, the audience quiets to an awed whisper as they find their seats, looking all around them at the lofty ceiling, and the thick red curtains that conceal the show they are so looking forward to seeing.

Once the audience has been seated, and starting time has been reached, the house lights begin their practiced fade, and the energy in the theatre intensifies exponentially. The show has begun.


Backstage, actors have spent the past few hours preparing for yet another show, and are quietly waiting in the wings for their entrance. Video monitors are at various points where the actors congregate, allowing them to watch and listen for their entrance. They have practiced for months now, and know every cue and line by heart.

The tech crew is calmly awaiting their first cues that will come through their lightweight personal wireless headsets. A fly crew is ready and waiting on the 60 line-set fly rail, thinking through the actions they've done thousands of times already. The running crew are invisible as they stand against the wall in their blacks, listening to the usual pre-show headset chatter, and ensuring that all their props are in position. Their movements have been practiced day in and day out, and they never miss a change or a cue, and will never make a sound. The follow spot operators are flexing their fingers, ready for the lightning fast follows they'll have to do, and the quick changers are checking every stitch for the hundredth time, ensuring that no costume goes onstage torn.

The lighting booth is serene as the finger of the lighting op hovers over the GO button on a pristine ETC Congo, a list of cues meticulously programmed ready to go. They check the dimmer status module again, watching the temperatures as they hover right where they always do in the green. They reach into their filing cabinet and pull out a single Bernard Callebeaut chocolate that they silently savor.

The sound op brings up his first show cue, and the sliders silently jump to their programmed positions, anticipating all the levels they'll need to set in the coming hours. Carefully chosen house music moves the audience closer and closer to a musical climax in expectation of the performance, and the green indicator lights of wireless microphones flash excitedly, silently translating the excited words of actors further backstage.

The stage manager peers at yet another video feed, watching the man running from his taxi into the lobby, where ushers kindly then show him to his seat. An infrared camera shows that all the actors are in their places, and another in the orchestra pit confirms the same of the musicians. The SM gently presses the call button, which emits a gentle buzz that immediately stops all the headset conversations. Giving the maestro the cue, the orchestra tunes a third time, and the calls being.

Ready all cues
Orchestra begins
Light cue 4 Go
Fly cue 1 Go

The red drapes gently lift off from the stage, and to the awe of the audience, this staged world is suddenly reality.

Light cue 5 Go
Actors On
Sound cue 1 Ready

The play begins, actors enter and leave the stage, lights fade up and down, the audience laughs and cries, running crews sneak on and off, and this reality is suspended, held by the commitment of the performers and crew, and accepted by the awed audience.

At the end, the actors make their bows, followed by the technicians. A standing ovation continues for several minutes as the actors and crew bow repeatedly, beaming in happiness at the outstanding performance.

And when that is all over, the audience leaves, back through those oak doors, across the ebony floor, down the stairs, and into their cars, where they excitedly talk about the show they just saw.

The performers applaud one for another outstanding performance, put their costumes carefully away in the wardrobe room, and slowly make their way towards the backstage bar. Family and friends cheer when they see the actors and crew enter, and everyone takes a seat in the room, enjoying a drink to cool them down after the show. The conversations grow louder as time wears on, until the stage manager steps onto a raised platform, and the hubub quickly dies out. Notes are given en mass, and for 15 minutes everyone is completely focused on the notes the SM is giving. The microphone is then passed onto another member of the group, who gives a short speech of praise for a fellow actor/technician, and then awards them the trophy that passes between every person in the room at some time or another.

With all the official business finished, cast and crew begin to say goodnight and disperse to their dormitories, where they will be able to sleep comfortably in anticipation of another performance the next day.

Everyone is completely committed to the performance, and will do whatever it takes to make it totally amazing.

And with the theatre silent, the owner walks through his theatre, flipping up that one seat that didn't quite make it all the way up, putting away the roll of gaff someone mistakenly left out, and stands centre stage. Looking out at his theatre, he brings his watch up, checks the time, and at exactly 1AM, the lights fade out, leaving a single bright night light casting a faint glow on the entire theatre. He turns, walks offstage, says goodnight to the few runners still chatting outside the bar, rings the elevator, and pushes the button for his room. The elevator pulls him up to the top floor where he disembarks, and quietly gets changes for sleep.

Another day in the theatre.

Shoot me now. Please

I never wanted any of this.

The drama, the hurt feelings, and the anger.

I have no idea what I'm feeling right now, but I don't like it. I'm lying in bed, just trying to make sense of all the things going on, but I just can't. Everything is so jumbled, and it's so confusing.

I wanted it to be simple and easy, I didn't want to have to deal with this sort of thing. I found amazing friends, and I thought it would be great, but now I find that it comes at a cost.

I need a break from it all, and that's why I'm looking forward to this so much. I just want to have time when no one is going to bug me, when I can just be myself.

I don't know what I'm trying to tell you. Lately I have no idea what I'm thinking, or where I'm going, I just wander in circles until I bump into something that makes sense.

I want to hug someone, and feel their warmth, and just to cry with them and understand what all is going on.

I've been hurt so much by all of these things going on, and I don't even know who's to blame. I don't know what hurts.

I want to scream in frustration so much right now. I want to just sob until my eyes run dry. I'm such an emotional wreck right now.

I feel like I've lost everything.

I'm paranoid beyond belief.

I want everything to revolve around ME.

I need to understand why I'm still feeling this way.


I still haven't given up those feelings, and I wish I could. If you asked me today, in all seriousness, I think I'd say yes. I will never, ever ask. But there's that tiny part, the 0.001% error inside of me that hasn't given up yet, that's going to fight until the day I die. And it hurts, so much. Sharp, hot blades as you press them into my chest, surrounded by the anaesthetic of the other, gentle words. They still hurt, they still leave a mark.

I want this so badly, I'm dreaming of it day and night. It's what keeps me awake during the day, and when I'm trying to sleep. I've waited longer than anyone should ever have to wait, and now, at last, I seem to be on my way.

But what if my destination isn't what I'm expecting? I have no idea what I'm getting myself into, and it scares me.

And I'm scared that I'm just doing this for the feeling.

Am I going to be ok with the challenges, the time, the distance?

I am so messed up. I need to be hit over the head with a baseball bat, go into a coma for a day, and wake up refreshed and ready to do shows. But that's not going to happen. I'm going to struggle to finish each of these horribly long days, sleeping in classes and exhausting myself to the breaking point.

I'm stupid and I'm fucked.

I have no idea what I should do about all of this now. Tomorrow will probably be extremely awkward, and I'm not looking forward to it in the slightest. I honestly just want to be over and done with this show so we can all move on and get back to our lives. But no, that'd be too easy, wouldn't it!

Why do I find myself hating him? Like, complete and utter loathing?

Because I still can't shake that feeling. Of getting second place.

Of being REplaced.

I want to smash something again.

All those guys who went all postal at their schools? I think I can finally associate with them. It's this kind of untamed anger and frustration that is just so awful that you need to let it go.

And something needs to give.

A tiny bit escaped today, that tiny little rant about why things played out as they did.

Yes, the tiny rant. There's more where that came from. This is a part of it.

You know, I'm still really angry about a lot of things. Like why I still have no idea why certain things had to happen, when they happened. Or why I never get explanations, just apologies. Or how people assume that I just know everything, or that I don't want them around, or that they're being annoying.

Seriously, if I don't want you around, YOU'LL BE ABLE TO TELL.

I'm very good at hiding. I hide many things.

Lots of things.

I don't know what to say to any of you. I want to go into the back back room and bang my head repeatedly against the cement wall. I want to climb to the top of the pillar and jump down, and feel the stinging pain shoot up my legs from the impact. I want to hit my finger with a hammer, and feel that hot searing pain wash over my body. I want to know what a kiss feels like for once in my life. I want to be shocked by an electrical outlet and have the tingle in my arms. I want to have the wind knocked out of me and ache all over. I want to block out the entire world.

I shouldn't post any of this.

I'll be taken away to a mental institute for sure.

Hehe

I got a little pissed off at the person who created the group attacking a certain person who broke up with another certain person. I don't know the whole story, but I don't think anyone deserves to be called a 'bitch', especially if it's obvious that the people who made the group don't know the whole story either.

So I saw that the creator had left the group, leaving no admins, so I joined, then deleted the group. Ha!

I think I realize why I don't blog during shows. I say things too quickly, and don't give them adequate thought.

Ever get that feeling where you know you've said something, but just aren't sure what the repercussions will be? I really don't know what to think anymore, just...



Life, leave me alone.

D:/My Documents/A letter.doc

I wrote a letter a few months back, and I only just found it again. I don't even remember writing it which is the weird part, it seems like something I might remember putting time and effort into.

What it's done is make life more complicated. Lately I've allowed myself to succumb to the bliss of ignorance, and I'm realizing what a mess it's causing. If only you knew.

I thought I had it all figured out, that all I had to do was wait and that when the time finally came, it would be perfect. But the thing about waiting for something to happen, is that time passes before it does. And when time passes, things change.

I feel like I'm looking at two polar opposites. So many different aspects to each scenario, and yet each with so many attractive qualities. Consequences too.

I find myself drifting back and forth, every minute thinking something different, questioning my previous decisions and trying to plan for the things that I have no idea will happen. I want a simple answer, I don't want to have to think about things, it shouldn't have to be multiple choice.

When I read that letter, it pulled me back to a place I had been for a long time, a letter that said in such a concrete manner exactly what I was feeling. There's no denying that it states exactly how I was feeling then, but what about now? I look at all those things I said, and wonder, is it still true?

I don't know where I should take things, and I constantly worry that I'm just going to screw it all up and end up right back where I started. I just want the simplicity of a child, to only have to worry if the tooth-fairy will come tonight, or if I mixed enough finger paints to finish my masterpiece.

I want this. I just hate the fog.
Damned fog...